


Much Mistletoeing

by blutopaz15



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: December - Freeform, Dorks in Love, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, Love, Mistletoe, POV Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Romance, Snow, So much flirting, Winter, holiday fluff, pure fluff, rayllum in katolis, shenanigans in katolis, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blutopaz15/pseuds/blutopaz15
Summary: When Rayla learns what humans do under the mistletoe, little bundles of green and white suddenly appear all over the castle.(Short epilogue added from tumblr New Year’s prompt!)
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 147
Kudos: 155





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> Yay, wintery Rayllum fluff!! I'm working on five short chapters and I'm hoping to post one each day from now until Christmas! This fic is not really very Christmas-y itself...really just wintery, mistletoe nonsense in Katolis, since who knows what kinds of traditions they have? 
> 
> There are some references to my [mid-TTM fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27459154/chapters/67132540) that I finished last week because somehow in my brain I have these two dorks back together and happy by the following December, mostly because I can't take the pain.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla learns what humans do under the mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I've been impatient to post what I have so I'm using my birthday (today, the 20th) as an excuse to post the first bit even though I'm still finishing up the rest.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! I'd love any comments/kudos you feel inclined to leave for me!!

Rayla could admit that the snow was pretty—

Though, as she’d told Callum as they watched it begin to come down over breakfast, the white flurries quickly lining the bricks and grass of the courtyard outside had  _ nothing _ on a snow-covered Silvergrove.

—but that didn’t mean she  _ liked _ the freezing wet globs falling from the sky. 

It was going to make for a _great_ excuse to steal Callum’s scarf for the day, though, she mused with a private smile. _Worth it._ From across the table, she couldn’t help but enviously eye the red loop around his neck that she knew to be warm and Callum-scented. Her insistence that she “didn’t need a cloak” this morning, despite her weather-magic prince’s warnings, had been _very_ deliberate. She’d—of course—believed his sense that it would snow, and she could’ve—of course—just _asked_ for it, but what fun would _that_ be when she could flirt her way into his scarf instead?

They’d watched the snow accumulate well into the morning, lazily sipping spiced tea in the fire-warmed dining hall to wait out the heavy flakes as long as possible, but when the bell tower struck eleven, they had no choice but to reluctantly make their way to the door, as Callum’s princely duties awaited.

“Opeli doesn’t take snow days,” Callum had explained with a contrite smile, holding the door open. Squinting at their slush-covered path back to the main hall of the castle, Rayla sighed and pulled her hood up. She eyed the scarf again and suppressed a smile in favor of pouting at her big, dumb sap of a human. She threw in a dramatic shiver for good measure. Callum shook his head when she did. “Told you,” he teased, unwinding his scarf from his neck and handing it to her. 

She waited until the red fabric was securely in place across her mouth and nose before smiling to herself at how easy it had been to get him to hand it over without even saying a word. The source of her smile shifted slightly as she shut her eyes and breathed in. Short of kissing him, nothing could make her heart beat quite as quickly as burying her nose in Callum’s scarf. It was  _ especially _ nice how the familiar scent of his skin and soap intermingled with the aroma of the tiny splashes of spiced tea that had dripped onto the scarf when she’d startled him with a kiss to the crown of his head earlier. The combination heightened the warmth and comfort that immediately spread through her chest tenfold.

The cold wind through the open entryway pulled her out of her fond reverie as it blew, and she frowned. “Let’s get this over with,” she grumbled, breezing past him and the open door to the snow-covered eaves across the way. 

When she turned back after her sprint through the cold, blustery weather, she was puzzled by the self-satisfied smirk across Callum’s face as his footsteps crunched towards her at half-speed. He wasn’t  _ that _ smug about predicting the snow, was he? Either way, she wished he’d hurry up. The scarf was nice, but his arms around her would be even warmer. She brought her hands to her elbows with the next gust of wind. It seemed he must’ve read her mind as he gained speed as he approached.

“What are you—mmmph!”

She hadn’t expected a kiss at all, and certainly not a kiss like  _ this _ —her hood knocked back from the sheer force of his lips colliding with hers, his fingers suddenly wrapped in his scarf around her neck, the gentle pressure of his kiss as he slowly pulled her lip between his, his cold nose bumping against her cheek, hands drifting to her waist and tilting her backward slightly as he deepened their kiss…

She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat pounding when she snuggled in closer, tucking her hands into the pocket of warmth beneath his jacket.

Her eyes had quickly fluttered shut once his lips were on hers, but they flew open again when his tongue, warm and cinnamon-flavored, touched to her lips. She glanced to either side with a sharp breath, glad for the odd hour which left them all alone out in the chilly December day. He pulled away at her little gasp, trailing a kiss to the corner of her mouth first.

He was positively  _ smug  _ when their eyes met and the fact that she was still leaned back and blinking  _ up _ at him seemed to only fuel that flirtatious gleam in his eye. His growth spurt had somehow made his embrace even  _ more _ intoxicating. His arm hooked around her waist tightened its hold. She could get used to  _ this,  _ she thought, her stomach flipping as his green eyes looked at her knowingly. 

“Wh—what was that for?” The words came out in a breathless, stammering gasp. Why bother collecting herself when he could see right through her, anyway?

“Mistletoe,” he responded simply, pointing above their heads. She pushed him away by the shoulders to straighten her spine and look up, finding a bundle of sage-green stems, dotted with clusters of white berries above them. She blinked back at him, unsure of what the little bouquet hanging by a navy ribbon had to do with anything. 

“Mistletoe?” She repeated, feeling her face grow warm, though she couldn’t be sure if that was in reaction to the standing out in the weather or in reaction to the infuriatingly adorable smirk he still wore. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled. The smirk fell away in favor of a sweeter smile that made her feel  _ far _ less flustered. His hands found hers. “It’s a part of the festival decorations. You’re supposed to kiss under it,” he explained, seemingly sincere. She was suspicious, though.  _ Wouldn’t have been the first time they’d made up an excuse to make out… _

“Are...are you messing with me?” she asked, squinting at him doubtfully. He grinned back and shook his head, the mischievous glint returning again to his eye.

“No, but if we stand here under it  _ too _ much longer, I’m gonna have to kiss you again.” She returned the smirk this time and looped her arms around his neck.

“I wouldn’t complain.” She shrugged and paid him back for all his smugness with a wink. “But, why?”

“I don’t know...tradition?” She struggled to maintain her composure as his fingers tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, then slowly trailed along the side of her scalp to find the short,  _ especially  _ warm, little braid tied beneath her hair. He tugged on it lightly. “Something about  _ marrying _ the girl you kiss under it...I don’t wanna risk missing  _ that _ boat.” 

His slightly goofy but seriously sweet expression, accompanied by a dramatic wink to answer her own, overpowered the breathless way his fingers in her hair always made her feel, so she grinned at him with the tiniest eye roll. It was  _ so  _ unfair for him to be  _ so _ adorable and  _ so _ cheesy, she thought, while the part of her heart very much devoted to him swelled with affection. The promise of forever wasn’t new, but especially when he made it again in quiet moments like this, even teasingly, it made her a little giddy. 

Maybe it was the soft and sweet way he looked at her—like only she mattered—or the reassurance that the devotion he carried for her was just as pure and constant as hers was for him, or maybe it was his voice, tempered equally with silliness, sincerity, and sappiness...she could never pin it down, but she just knew she  _ loved him so much _ . She tucked her fingers back under his jacket, finding her braid’s twin pinned in its usual spot.

“Oh, is that  _ so?”  _ She drew out the words and tugged him closer by the edges of his jacket. “ _ Well _ , wouldn’t want to go against  _ tradition, _ would we?” Her intention had been to kiss him as thoroughly as he’d kissed her, but neither of them could set aside their lovesick grins for longer than a moment, resulting in cold noses pressed to each other’s cheeks while they giggled stupidly in each other’s arms. 

That was okay for now, she thought, as a private plan to steal more kisses formed in her head, secretly fueling her giddy delight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla puts all the pieces of her plan together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody!! Here's the next snippet! Just a few moments of Rayla putting together her scheme to get more kisses, featuring Intense Hand-holding (tm).
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Opeli was waiting outside of the throne room when they rounded the corner, which could only mean one thing: Callum was late for his rehearsal for the festival’s opening ceremonies tonight.

“I thought you said you had to be here at half-past,” Rayla said, sheepishly unwinding herself from under Callum’s arm as Opeli glared at them from down the hall. Punctuality was only the theme of Opeli’s  _ second _ most frequent lecture—the first being propriety. Callum’s apologetic squeeze of her hand answered her question. She sighed and squeezed back in understanding, knowing that official duties like this were not Callum’s cup of tea in the first place. It occurred to her that her little mistletoe plot might be a not only welcome but  _ necessary  _ distraction this evening for her sweet, nervous prince.

“Prince Callum,” Opeli started sternly as they approached. “Eleven o’clock means eleven o’clock.  _ Not— _ “

“I know! I know. It was just that the snow—“ The combination of Rayla’s elbow in his side and Opeli’s frown interrupted him. He slumped over. “Sorry.”

Opeli shook her head with a sigh and turned quickly on her heel. “Come along, then.” 

Callum made to follow, but Rayla’s other plans halted her in the doorway. Time was short. After all, who knew where she could even  _ find _ mistletoe? She poked a thumb over her shoulder when Callum turned back to see why she wasn’t coming.

“I have some...stuff to do,” Rayla said vaguely from the entrance, squeezing Callum’s hand again and shooting an apologetic glance to Ezran who sat restlessly on his throne, legs dangling down. Soren leaned against the wall nearby. She quickly scurried away before any of the boys could needle her into staying.

“Aw, Rayla,” she heard Ez call as she jogged down the hall, “don’t make us suffer alone!”

—

The way Rayla figured it, she had three hours before she’d need to start getting cleaned up for the festival, and three objectives:

  1. Find mistletoe
  2. Obtain mistletoe
  3. Hang mistletoe



Her first task ended up being simpler than she anticipated. 

In fact, she’d  _ thought _ it was going to be the worst part, mostly because she had  _ no idea _ who she was going to ask about where to find more mistletoe. Even  _ if _ Soren and Ez weren’t suffering with Callum, locked in the throne room with Opeli, her plan was  _ way _ too mushy to ask either of them about it. 

She’d thought about asking some of the decorators working in each hall of the castle when she’d glanced at their carts of supplies in search of more mistletoe, but they were almost certainly under Opeli’s oversight. She  _ really _ didn’t need her transparent plot to make-out with Callum all over the castle to come to Opeli’s attention, or to the attention of any of her other more vague acquaintances in the castle, for that matter. The only person she was  _ sure _ wouldn’t give her a hard time about any of it was Callum...and this was  _ his _ surprise. 

She was hopeful, though, when her favorite guard was on duty in her and Callum’s hallway as she returned to their room in search of a cloak to add to her mistletoe-hunting gear. The familiar sentry, just a little older than she was, was always happy to chime in whenever Rayla found good reason to tease any of the boys, and Rayla knew from a few of their witty exchanges that the young guard had a boyfriend of her own. She’d probably even keep the whole thing a secret, and Rayla doubted she’d give her too much grief about it either.

In no time at all, the guard had pointed Rayla in the direction of some tall trees outside of the castle where she might find some mistletoe in the higher branches. She’d winked knowingly at Rayla as she explained, which was a small price to pay given the teasing she would’ve gotten from pretty much anyone else in the castle. 

Step One: Complete

—

Completing her next objective was...not so pleasant..

Rayla had realized, with a groan, how miserable gathering the mistletoe was going to be as soon as she stepped outside again, finding that the snow had shifted into sleet as the day became slightly warmer. She trudged through the slush dutifully, though, breathing into Callum’s scarf still fixed around her neck—mostly for its warmth rather than for its reassuring smell now—and reminding herself of the cinnamon-flavored kisses that would be _ oh so _ worth it. She’d have to be sure to bring him some of that spiced tea again, she mused. She hugged her arms in around her middle beneath the cloak and imagined for a moment that Callum’s fingers were pressing against her waist rather than her own. Only for Callum’s sake, she thought, would she subject herself to this freezing, wet misery. She sighed when the wind blew  _ again _ , as the sleet stung against any bare skin it could find.

When she reached the cluster of tall trees that the guard had directed her to, she squinted up into the branches and found that any hope of seeing mistletoe from the ground was obscured by the icy snow that had settled on each limb. She sighed again and leapt up, making her way closer to the top, where she’d been told to look for the white berries, difficult to make out against the snow.

She was relieved, at least, when the first tree she climbed housed an enormous cloud of mistletoe around one of the uppermost limbs. Her blade sliced easily through the vines connecting the mistletoe to the tree and pieces began to fall to the ground as she continued to cut the sprigs away. With each slice, she counted another bundle to wrap and hang and another kiss to press to Callum’s lips. Nineteen was the total by the time she was done. Nineteen  _ warm _ Callum kisses, she thought, teeth gritted and hands frozen.

When she was done, she swung down merrily to the ground, pleased to soon be out of the weather. Gathering the stems in her arms, though, she paused to consider how she could explain an armful of mistletoe upon her return.

She dropped them, cursing her love for her stupid human and his stupid human kisses, and trudged back to the castle to find a bag.

—

Having been all over the castle, silently and stealthily placing the mistletoe all over, Rayla had run out of places to hang the final bouquet. She’d hung some in the well-lit junctions where the main hallways met—she figured other people could use some mistletoe too—but  _ most _ of the bundles were tucked away in the back hallways and not-so-well-it alcoves.  _ Especially _ since they’d half-heartedly resolved to stop making out in their room, she and Callum frequented those...frequently. Everywhere she looked now, it seemed there was already some white-spotted greenery hanging down, marking their tried and true hiding spots.

Her path had brought her back to their hall again, tossing the single bundle she’d yet to hang into the air as she wandered. Each time, she caught it easily by the stems, bound together with a length of blue ribbon she’d carefully wrapped around the trimmings of mistletoe. She paused outside of their door, glancing to either end of their hallway to confirm with a satisfied hum that a bundle of green and white already hung from the ceiling at each end of the passage. Another layer of her plan fell into place as she squinted between the final remaining bundle and their doorway, a grin breaking across her face. She entered the room and spied the  _ perfect  _ location for the last few sprigs of mistletoe which would accompany the  _ perfect  _ excuse for kissing behind closed doors.

She decided, then, to make her little surprise into a game, with  _ prizes _ to be won, which was even  _ more _ appealing than just getting to kiss Callum all over the castle... _ especially _ when she could guarantee the outcome. As she swung up to the rafters and shimmied over to hang the decoration from the beam that cut across the center of their ceiling, she imagined him following her, all lovesick and puppy-dog eyed, into their room as she pointed above their heads to the final, most elusive piece of mistletoe in their scavenger hunt. 

She smirked to herself, composing the victory speech she’d tease him with  _ just _ before attaching her lips to his, then she blushed, imagining their kiss and how it—and their wandering hands—might echo the last time they’d been a little  _ more _ than snuggly all alone in their room. Her blush gave way into another wide grin, though, as she settled on the prize he’d win. It was a  _ decidedly _ snuggly prize...though, she imagined she could certainly allow a  _ few _ extra kisses and maybe  _ one or two  _ less-than-chaste touches without getting  _ too  _ carried away.

The knock at the door woke her from her daydream as her feet hit the ground again.

“Rayla? You in there?” Callum called to her with a few extra raps against the door. Rayla glanced up with a cringe, realizing that her new scheme, which she’d quickly become attached to, would all be for naught if he came in and saw the mistletoe.

“Yeah, I’m...uh...getting ready for the thing tonight!” she responded, throwing her shoulders back against the door in case Callum misunderstood and took that as an invitation. He was silent for a moment and she had to wonder if him  _ helping  _ her “get ready’ crossed his mind like it had hers. Maybe if he actually managed to  _ win  _ their mistletoe scavenger hunt he could  _ help  _ her get ready for bed instead...

“Oh, well...are you decent?” He asked innocently, seeming none the wiser to her alarm or any suggestion that could have been implied. Rayla couldn’t help but smile about his polite and  _ princely _ consideration, as her eyes scanned all over, looking for some excuse to keep him out of the room. She found it in their new clothes, laid out across both of their pillows. With his draped across her arm, she approached the still-closed door again. Playing at coy shyness, she was sure, could coerce him into abandoning their room for the remainder of the afternoon.

“I am, but...I don’t want you to see til I’m ready.” She hoped her voice was enough for him to picture her pouting and nervous, though she was neither of those two things. “Can you get ready with Ez if I hand you your fancy clothes?” she asked with an extra layer of sugary sweetness.

“Ooh, mysterious,” he teased in agreement from the hall. She rolled her eyes and scoffed back, knowing exactly which ridiculous expression he’d be wearing on the other side of the door.

“Oh, yes. Yes, very mysterious,” she retorted before opening the door just enough to slide the arm that held his new tunic through. “Here, dummy.”

The slight weight of his shirt against her forearm was replaced, then, with the weight of his hands, which floated gently from her elbow down to her wrist. His fingers continued from her wrist to trace along the top of her hand and across her fingers, so delicately that she shuddered. Clasping her hand in his, he massaged it the way he always did when he thought she was cold. His fingers wandered back to the lower seam of her wrist guard.

“You’re not wearing those to the party are you?” Her cheeks flushed from the realization that she’d forgotten about the costume-change part of her efforts to conceal his surprise and from the ticklish way Callum ran a single finger along the sensitive underside of her wrist.

“Oh. Uh...no,” she breathed, stupefied by his careful and tender touch. “I, uh...forgot to take them off.”

He pulled her arm up and she felt his lips touch to the tiny patch of bare skin between her palm and the dark fabric. Callum’s breath was hot against her. 

“Good. I like it under there.” She sucked in a breath, imagining his eyes, probably a little heated and certainly extremely fond, meeting hers as he spoke. He left a second kiss in the same spot before he turned her arm back over and held her fingers in his hand. His lips found her knuckles and...was that his hair tickling her wrist now? She sensed the slight shuffle of his feet on the other side of the door as her sweet, dorky prince leaned back up from the kiss he’d bowed to place on her hand. 

“I’ll be back at five, Rayla,” he said, her name on his lips the sweetest thing she could imagine hearing. The final, gentle squeeze he gave to her hand matched up in rhythm with a similar tightness in her chest. Rayla leaned back against the door to close it once his footsteps had faded and looked up in dreamy anticipation at the bundle of mistletoe she couldn’t  _ wait _ to kiss him under.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rayla gets to tell Callum about her plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! (for me, at least...)
> 
> Today we have Rayla getting all done up for little festival/party/whatever it is that we're calling this!! Personally, I think ever-pracical Rayla would enjoy having an actual *reason* to get all dressed up and show off for her big dumb human, so that's basically what we have in this chapter...along with mistletoe kiss #2 and plenty of flirty blushy nonsense!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Rayla winced when one of the blue ribbons she'd woven through each braid and criss-crossed over each horn knotted against the tip of her left horn as she yanked it away in frustration. It had to have been the  _ tenth  _ time she’d pulled the leftover mistletoe ribbon from her hair, undoing the braids she’d tied and retied over and over in her efforts to get the blue satiny fabric worked in  _ just _ right. She rubbed at the base of the horn and sighed, wishing she’d just let her hair dry normally instead of crinkling it all up by braiding it wet. Now she had no choice but to get the braids right unless she wanted her hair to be a dented, misshapen mess all night. She shook out her arms and tried again, more than aware that Callum would come knocking any minute now.

Speaking of Callum, she blamed  _ him _ and that kiss he’d left on her hand for this. When she’d turned back to her room after he’d left, she found herself swept up—embarrassingly so—in the romance of it all and so she’d become a little overzealous with making sure she looked  _ just _ right. Maybe all of those stupid human fairy tales she and Callum had been reading before bed each night were rubbing off, what with their chivalry and fancy dresses and Prince  _ Charmings _ and all.

After all, it really  _ had  _ been that cute little bow he’d done on the other side of the door that had started all this giddiness. Then, she’d seen the new dress waiting for her across her pillow, which solidified her wanting to look  _ especially _ nice for him. She knew, of course, though, that he adored her typical states of disarray—bed-headed and drooly, dirt-caked and grass-stained _ ,  _ however she normally looked when she paid it no mind… Sometimes she thought that the  _ worse _ she looked, the  _ more _ he complimented her. 

As unnecessary as she knew her concern over her appearance was, she still thought her looking extra nice might be encouraging for him in the same way her flirting always seemed to make his confidence swell. Rayla couldn’t pretend she didn’t know that she’d be the center of his attention all night. She thought of that floaty feeling she had whenever she watched him being all smiley and happy and how she wanted to give him his own version of that feeling, at least, to latch onto in case of the much-feared public-speaking disaster he’d been anticipating and alluding to all week. She desperately wanted to avoid Sad Prince Callum, and distraction via flirtation was certainly the best method in doing so that she’d found so far.  _ These stupid ribbons, _ she thought as she began to rework the braids  _ again _ , better _ help with that. _

All of that—fairy tales and knowing she’d have her favorite human’s undivided attention—had had her humming little love songs earlier while she washed tree sap off of her hands and a stray leaf or two out of her hair, before she continued her little concert all around their room, swaying to the same imaginary music barefoot as she dressed. She’d been shamelessly dancing around their room to the tune in her head, enjoying how the layered fabric of her new green dress took a moment to catch up with her turns before settling back down against her shins, when she’d spotted the remaining navy mistletoe ribbon spilling out of her bag, She’d immediately spun back to the mirror in the washroom to further adorn herself for Callum. She wouldn’t go so far as to tie a bow on the top of her head or anything, but she workshopped lines about being his gift—or maybe him being her gift?—as she’d started to redo her hair.

She now regretted pulling out the twin braids she’d done straight out of the bath. They’d been so neat and tidy, securing the top section of her hair back and out of her face, and now, instead of having pretty braids, her head was a frantic, rushed _mess_ consisting of dented clumps of white and random streaks of satin-y blue. She stuck out her tongue as she finished her _eleventh_ attempt. She’d wound the ribbon around each horn and each braid—four now, instead of two—rather than intermingling the navy with the white strands of her hair within the braids. The knock at the door came just as she decided that she was mostly satisfied with her reflection—though she still thought her first attempt had been better. 

“Hold on!” she called as she twirled the ends of the ribbons around her fingers, hoping they’d stay in pretty tendrils, and let them fall down against her back, ending just below her shoulders.

She snagged Callum’s scarf from her bed before sliding into her shoes and out of the door, careful not to let him peek behind her at the mistletoe hanging inside their room. She couldn’t resist immediately laying a kiss to his cheek before stepping away to look at her cute human.

She looked from his thoroughly red ensemble—very  _ princely _ , she mused, with its shiny gold trimmings—to the equally red scarf in her hand, stopping herself from looping it back around his neck as she’d planned. “Maybe a bit  _ too _ much red?” she asked with a hum, holding the scarf up for him to consider. His eyes rapidly flickered between her and the ground between them. “Callum?”

“I’m, uh, sorry,” he started, blinking to meet her gaze briefly before glancing back to the ground, then the ceiling. She wished she’d pick this spot for some mistletoe for him to notice if he was going to insist on avoiding eye contact like this. “It’s, uh...it’s rude to stare, right? I shouldn’t stare.” He continued looking around, but green eyes locked onto hers for the longest moment yet as he finished stammering. “Right?”

She chuckled and tucked her arms behind her back when he looked away again, shifting her weight to arrange herself specifically  _ to  _ be stared at.

“Who told you  _ that _ ?” His cheeks went pink as he glanced back up at her posture and then looked her in the eye again. “Callum...don’t be awkward,” she scolded gently in response to this  _ adorable  _ little display of nerves. She rocked back and forth a little to draw his eye, then leaned toward him. “I  _ want _ you to stare at me. Kind of the point, actually.” 

Smiling at her big, dumb,  _ blushing _ human when he looked at her again, Rayla lowered her chin to look up at him through her eyelashes, watching him watch her. Callum’s eyes drifted all the way down, then back up, settling finally on her elbow before he reached out to touch it. She offered him the hand attached to it and giggled again when he used that hand to begin to turn her around, with a shy smile that raised a single corner of his mouth. 

“That’s better,” she said when she looked over her shoulder at him and saw some of the nerves replaced with the familiar twinkle of humor in his eye, as he gently, slowly spun her. She saw his mouth start to move as if to respond but, when she smirked  _ just _ slightly over her other shoulder in an attempt to be enticing, his lips closed again...she thought maybe her attempt had been successful. She made it all the way around, having to duck under his outstretched arm, and immediately closed the distance between them, a hand resting over his heart

“Hi,” she said, feeling a little rosy color in her cheeks despite her  _ intention _ to be the center of his attention. The lovesick giddiness that’d made her dance around their room earlier returned as his thumbs pressed against her waist. 

She glanced impatiently at the first—well,  _ second _ , counting the courtyard—of the bundles of mistletoe hanging just a few yards down the corridor, but she didn’t let her eyes linger on his lips too long when she looked back at him. Though, she couldn’t help the way she bit her own lip, thinking about how that kiss was going to make her heart flutter and her cheeks even warmer...

“Hi, beautiful.” His eyes had gone half-lidded and hazy as she’d stepped closer, his stare now constant and steady. His lips were still curved upward and no matter how dopey or dumb or lopsided that smile of his was, it never failed to make her stomach flip. She didn’t even need to  _ hear _ Callum say he loved her when  _ that _ was how he looked at her. He looked at her lips too, but she pointedly looked away to delay their kiss until they had made their way a few steps down the hall so that she’d have good reason to explain the game he didn’t know he was playing yet. 

“Oof,” she started to tease. She let her hands wander into his hair, currently a little too neat without her mussing it. She fussed until the little piece that liked to stick up at the crown of his head had reappeared. “That was cheesy, even for your dorky self. Cute, though.” She held up the scarf that was still clasped in her left hand. “So...mine still?” she asked. He took it from her and draped it around her shoulders like a shawl.

“ _ Definitely _ yours,” he grinned at her. “I want  _ everyone _ to know that the most beautiful girl at the party is  _ mine _ .” She flushed a deeper shade of red, but couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Silly—but sweet—of him to think that he needed to stake some sort of claim. 

“Speaking of the party,” he started, turning her in the direction of the festivities, “Opeli will literally kill me if I’m late.” 

She almost yelped at his hand against the bare skin between her shoulder blades, guiding her down the hall. He didn’t comment but it hadn’t gone unnoticed, judging by the flirtatious, sparkly emerald shine that came to his eye and the way his fingers ran deliberately against her spine now. She was reluctant to slip away from his touch, but the loss of contact was a small price to pay for the pleasure of surprising  _ him _ with a kiss. She stepped in front of him and put her lips to his before he could guess at why she’d cut off his path.

He seemed  _ far _ less surprised than she’d been by his kiss that morning but she still earned a tiny little exclamation when her hands fisted against his chest, wrapped up in his new shirt. She pressed closer to him, drawing him nearer by hands that moved from chest, to waist, to hips. He stumbled forward, their middles pressed wholly against each other, and his fingers found her jaw almost immediately, cradling her face close to his. Then, his hand began to drift, finding the braids that held the left side of her hair out of the way and tracing the ribbon loosely woven around each as they kissed. His fingers followed the blue fabric around and around, pausing to choose a direction where the ribbon crossed itself over her braids and then over her horn before continuing with the ribbon down to her back, where he let his hand rest. 

A shiver ran down her spine when the heaviness of his hand settled against her, and her brow furrowed.  _ She _ was supposed to be making  _ him _ feel things, not the other way around. She pushed back into their kiss with renewed fervor. When she let her lips fall open, his almost immediately followed along with a sigh that gave her a bit of satisfaction at least. His hand at her back flinched to hold her a little tighter when she nipped at his bottom lip, and she had to push down a giggle at his reaction. Another, louder sigh followed from the back of Callum’s throat shortly after when her tongue touched against his, caressing softly but repetitively. They had no choice but to break away for air after a few moments, though.

“What was  _ that _ for?” He echoed her from earlier with that frustratingly knowing little smirk fixed across his mouth again. She rolled her eyes, and pointed up.

“This is number two,” she said, as he looked up with her at the sprigs of mistletoe suspended above them.

“Yeah?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and looking back at her lips.

“Out of twenty,” she said, smiling and proud to finally get to reveal her plan.

“I don’t get it.” He squinted at her. Her eyes narrowed and it was time for her to be a little smug. He blushed when he recognized the mischievous slant in her smile, his eyes lingering on her lips.

“After the party,” she began, drifting closer again to punctuate her words with light kisses to his cheek. He smiled a little wider when her lips made contact, and she made sure to linger nearby between kisses as her lips drifted closer to his ear. 

“We’re going to go on a little...adventure,” she whispered with another kiss. She heard his breath catch in his throat when she exhaled against his cheek. 

“I counted twenty pieces of mistletoe,” she continued, not letting on yet that she’d placed all but the first. His arms wrapped around her back, drawing her even closer to him as her lips met soft skin once again.

“And you’re going to kiss me under  _ all _ of them.” She finished by whispering this directly into his ear, then pulling away and looking up  _ so _ very slowly to make eye contact. She winked seeing the euphoric, lovesick expression that had taken over his face, and he drooped down dramatically as if he were too smitten to even hold himself upright in her presence.

She wondered, with satisfaction at having made him look and act all dopey like that, if this expression was his version of that floaty feeling she could never quite shake around a happy Callum. He nodded along as he—barely—strung together his thoughts on the matter of mistletoe.

“Uh-huh. Yup. Mistletoe. Kissing. Got it. Yes, please.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only thing standing in the way of the rest of their mistletoe kisses now...is public speaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! 
> 
> Last chapter before the majority of these dorks' sweet, sweet mistletoe kisses! Plenty of flirting to be done in this chapter first, though! ;D
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy!!! I'd love any comments you'd like to leave for me!!

They were only up to five mistletoe kisses by the time they reached the end of the hall that led to the throne room, each a kiss little shorter than the last as the threat of another punctuality-themed lecture loomed over their heads. It really was a shame, though, that they had to be such short kisses, Rayla thought, because Callum seemed to grow more and more tense the closer they got to the sounds of the gathering at the center of the castle. She wanted nothing more than to pause under each cluster of green and white for an extra long moment, even if it was just to let him melt into her arms, kisses aside. She frowned at the brisk and anxious pace he kept them moving at between kisses, forced to let her thumb rubbing against his hand do most of the comforting as they walked along, rather than reassuring him with _slow_ , soft kisses the way she wanted to.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t surprised by the sheer size of the crowd of people outside the throne room that came into view as they rounded the corner after their fifth short and sweet mistletoe kiss. Rayla looked up above the large doors at the center of the corridor, second-guessing her mistletoe placement.

She pursed her lips regretfully at how _extremely_ conspicuous the bundle of mistletoe hanging just outside of the door was. _So_ many people, some just loitering outside, some filing into the room, all waiting for the festivities to begin. She considered, with great uncertainty, how some of these humans might feel about _her._

“Callum, we can skip this one if you want—” She was surprised to see not the miserable chagrin she expected on his face, but a grateful smile instead. He tightened his grip on her hand and shook his head, reassuring her without even knowing that she needed it.

“Most beautiful girl at the party, remember?” Rayla grinned at him when he pulled her into position under the mistletoe, her worries floating away and the tension vanishing from his shoulders...for the moment at least. Apparently distraction via flirtation worked _both_ ways for Callum. She took a breath to comment on this, but was interrupted by a tiny voice from one of the clusters of Katolians that stood nearby. 

“Aw, look! Mistletoe!” the voice said. Rayla glanced back and forth between the little girl who was pointing above their heads and Callum’s smile. He took a breath to respond but she shook her head slightly, realizing that she should be the one to speak, and moved closer herself to the little one. Everyone nearby quieted down when she did. She gained a new understanding of Callum’s nerves as everyone looked at her.

She could sense a little apprehension in the air as she stooped down next to the little girl. “I’m not from around here. What’s mistletoe?” Rayla tilted her head to the side inquisitively as she asked, and the little human stepped closer too.

“It means Prince Callum has to kiss you!” she explained, pointing to the prince behind her.

“ _Oh,”_ Rayla smiled. “Well, it’s a good thing you told me,” she said, before thanking the little girl and standing back up. Callum’s eyes—was that _pride_ in them?—eased her discomfort when she looked to him after making the mistake of glancing at the other people gathered nearby, who all seemed to be watching them— _her—_ more closely than she would prefer.

Before he closed the distance between their lips, he reached to take her by both hands and whispered with just an inch of space separating them, “six,” counting the next kiss in their little adventure. His lips were soft and smiley against hers. 

The clusters of people in the hall seemed to hold their breath until their kiss was through and then little murmurs of chatter began again. 

Some of it was tinged with surprise. She wasn’t sure _why_...it’s not like it was a secret that the prince of Katolis was in love with a Moonshadow elf. In fact, she was pretty sure someone had written it down on some treaty or other. Thankfully, she didn’t hear any disdain or bitterness from anyone nearby, Rayla noted vaguely, stepping closer into the warmth of Callum’s embrace. She bent her head to rest against him as the room’s attention dissipated. 

After a few moments of quietly holding each other, it seemed that he’d absorbed her nervous energy when he drew a shaky breath, clearly recalling the worries that’d been plaguing him all day. 

“You’ll be okay, Callum,” she assured him. His shoulders slackened a little with his next exhale. “Pretend that you’re just talking to me.” Rayla shrugged in his arms, and he laughed. She looked up to see what was so funny.

“ _Definitely_ better than Soren’s suggestion.” He scoffed, grinning now.

“What’s that?” She asked, hoping he’d keep laughing instead of being all anxious. 

He rolled his eyes, clearly still amused as he repeated the advice. “To picture everyone in their underwear.”

She laughed back before leaning in and whispering to him, cupping a hand over her mouth as she did, _just_ to be sure no one nearby could read her lips. He raised an eyebrow when she pulled away and met his eye with a playful smile.

“I, uh, don’t think that will help, Rayla.” His little laugh was shy-sounding and his face went pink again, but she’d successfully put a little more light back into his eyes, she noted when he returned her steady gaze with a coy glimmer of his own. She grinned—he was just so _irresistibly_ cute when flustered and flirty—and placed her head back on his shoulder.

“I believe in you, Callum. You’ll do great.” He hugged her tighter appreciatively.

Their embrace was soon interrupted, though, by a familiar cough from the door of the throne room. Rayla was a little surprised to see Opeli smiling at them from the doorway instead of getting ready to scold them. She supposed, though, that mistletoe kisses being _tradition_ and all pretty much made their very public kiss expected—maybe even _obligatory_ —for the prince of Katolis. 

Rayla was surprised that Opeli wasn’t more insistently separating them now, though, as they stood in the thick of things, all looped around each other and blushy. The color drained from Rayla’s face as she thanked Garlath that Opeli hadn’t heard her dirty joke. _That_ would have unlocked a whole new level of Opeli lectures.

Callum turned to go with a sigh, but Rayla caught his chin for one more reassuring kiss to his temple and one more whispered I-love-you.

—

“I’ve come to save you,” Rayla said, having snuck up to Callum’s side, around the clusters of courtiers that wanted to speak with him.

“My hero,” he muttered through the smile that she knew Opeli had drilled him in keeping fixed to his face. He excused himself and then immediately let his face fall flat as he turned to her. “I’m not smiling for the next _week_.”

“Good luck with that,” she said, her fingers tickling briefly at his side until he let the smile creep back across his lips. Instead of swatting at her fingers the way he’d typically ward off tickling, he pulled at her arm to loop it through his and escorted her to the solitary deserted window sill in the corner of the room. 

“So, how badly did I embarrass myself?” He leaned against the wall and started fidgeting with her fingers as he asked. 

Maybe she was a little—a lot—biased, but he’d been _brilliant_ , and she was convinced now that all of his self-deprecation and anxiety was _entirely_ unfounded. Maybe there’d been a good reason for it at one point, but now? His tone had been even and clear, and his prepared words had somehow managed to maintain that special Callum brand of heartfelt sincerity despite his apprehension. She shook her head, wrapped her fingers around his, and with all of the sincerity she could muster, said:

“Callum, you are—and I mean this in the nicest possible way— _so_ dumb.”

He burst out laughing and she knew that he understood that she meant that he was wonderful. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said. She let him continue with his absentminded poking and prodding of her hand and softened her tone to genuinely praise him now.

“ _Why_ were you so nervous? You did _so_ well.” She watched while his laughter faded and his face strayed into Sad Prince Callum territory.

“Well, considering that the _last_ time I had to do something like that in the throne room, I puked into a fern, I think I had pretty good reason to be nervous.” He winced at the thought and she couldn’t help but smile sympathetically, her free hand on his shoulder.

“Seriously, though. Well done,” she insisted. He looked like he _almost_ believed her now, at least.

“Thanks,” he said, his hand turning hers over. His fingers drifted to trace little patterns on the underside of her wrist. Runes, she thought. Moonshadow ones. He shrugged as he continued speaking, his fingers tickling against her forearm—nowhere near enough for her to want to pull away. “It helps that now I just feel like I’m helping Ez when I do this kind of thing. Plus, I got some _pretty_ good advice.” It seemed he’d shaken off most of his self-doubt, judging by the smile he now wore.

“Not from _Soren_ ,” she scoffed.

“No. I did what _you_ said, though, Rayla.” He was _super_ serious, all grateful and heartfelt still. Squinting at him, she started to chuckle again—but _not_ about either of the pieces of _legitimate_ advice he’d gotten today.

“...really?” She questioned, the impish smirk returning to her lips, hoping to remind him of the quiet, _slightly_ indecent solution she whispered to him in the hall. She hoped it was enough to banish Sad Prince Callum—for the evening, at least. He gave a phony glare in her direction, though he was clearly _quite_ entertained based on the balance of heat and humor in his eyes. His fingers against her arm stilled.

“The _looking at you_ part, Rayla, not—” 

“Shh!” She touched her finger to his lips, a little scandalized that he wasn’t even bothering to _whisper_. Their little deserted corner wasn’t _that_ private. “I _know_ what you meant, dummy. Just teasing,” She took a hold of his palm now that he’d let go of her, caressing his hand in hers as they continued to speak. “It helped, though?”

“You help with _everything,_ Rayla,” he said. She froze mid-breath when the fingers belonging to the hand she wasn’t holding pressed into her cheek. “Thank you.”

Somehow that made her blush _way_ more than any impure suggestion she'd made could. “I didn’t really _do_ anything, Callum,” she said, looking to the side doubtfully.

“You make me... _trust myself_ , though, Rayla.” Instead of just touching her face now, his thumb ran along the edge of the deep purple marking there under her eye. “I mean, if _you’re_ so great,” he continued, his eyes flickering with affection, “and you _love_ me, then I guess I must be doing _something_ right.” 

“Think so?” she teased. He barely reacted, just smiling slightly and resuming the intense and affectionate stare.

She was pretty sure he’d be kissing her if not for the crowded room, as his gaze drifted lazily between her eyes and her lips, lingering in-between too. When his fingers wandered back up to the braids in her hair, her mind wandered down the hall to where she knew another sprig of mistletoe waited for them, and she stepped closer.

“You know, I never explained the rules to you,” she breathed, pulling the hand in her hair to her waist instead and looping her arms around his neck.

He was still watching her lips. “The rules?” 

“For the mistletoe,” she clarified.

“There are rules?” A corner of his mouth pulled upward as he started to tease her. “What, like ‘don’t get caught’? Isn’t that pretty much the rule _all_ of the time?” She couldn’t ignore the way his fingers on her waist shifted down, just by an inch or so. The next breath she took shook on its way in.

“Well, yes,” she conceded, her hands pulling gently at a few strands of hair at the back of his neck as she spoke. “But, that’s a little hard when it’s all over the place...especially since it seems like everyone actually _demands_ that we kiss when there’s mistletoe involved.” 

“There is a _lot_ of it this year,” he commented, shrugging and breaking his intense stare for the first time in quite a while. She bit her lip to suppress the smile that threatened to let on that she’d been responsible for nearly _all_ of the mistletoe. That secret, after all, guaranteed her victory. He’d _never_ find the last piece of mistletoe—until they went to bed, at least—unless he knew she’d hung them all. He looked back at her and her breath caught in her throat again with his next words. “I don’t think I’d want everyone to see the way I _want_ to kiss you, though, Rayla.”

Her eyes drifted towards the ground and then the ceiling as her face flushed and words escaped her capabilities for a moment. She took a moment to consider how best to present the last component of her little game before continuing to speak. 

“I guess it’s not really a _rule_ so much as it is a _prize_. _You_ have to find _all_ of the mistletoe, though, to win.”

“What’s the prize?” He asked, his chin angling closer to her, clearly amused by her flustered reaction to his flirting and clearly using the opportunity to his advantage as he continued to drive her crazy with that adorable smirk and those warm eyes...

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, focusing a little too intensely on sending him a cheeky smile back and a wink that she was sure was _definitely_ too dramatic to be attractive.

“...yes. Yes, I would,” he said, that lovesick slump coming to his shoulders again. She couldn’t help but laugh, and he chuckled along with her.

“You’ll have to win, then.” She dared to lean forward and kiss his cheek. She stayed close to whisper the next question, glancing around to see if they had anyone’s attention. “How soon do you think we can leave?”

He pursed his lips as he considered, head bobbling back and forth as he seemed to bounce between scenarios. “With or without Opeli being mad?” he finally asked.

“...with?” she asked hopefully, knowing that they’d be stuck there _forever_ if they waited for actual _permission_ to leave. 

“Mmmm…” He peered over her shoulder and she looked too, seeing Opeli embroiled in some conversation with Corvus. “Now?” He shrugged and smiled brightly, as she started to tug him along around the outskirts of the room eagerly towards the door, willing to give him a _little_ nudge, at least, in the direction of the next closest piece of mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have quite a bit of writing to do for the last chapter still, but it should certainly be up by the end of the day on Christmas, if not sooner! Thanks for reading so far!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Callum searches for all twenty pieces of mistletoe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I *really* thought I wasn't going to be able to get this posted up before the end of Christmas Day, but here we are, 11pm EST and it's here!!
> 
> Thanks for reading along with this ridiculously fluffy nonsense! It's been fun!! As always, I'd love any comments you'd like to leave for me.
> 
> Happy, happy holidays, friends!

As they made their way to next bouquet of mistletoe, hanging just around the corner from the main hall, it was clear to Rayla that her dumb and dorky mage was solidly back in good spirits because he’d stopped worrying about  _ himself _ and started worrying about  _ her _ , squeezing her hand intermittently and shooting her smiles that were  _ much _ too innocent for their mission to make out all over the castle.  _ So _ predictable.  _ So _ Callum.  _ So _ unnecessary. Nothing a little well-placed flirtation couldn’t squash, though.

“Now that  _ that’s _ all over...how are  _ you  _ doing with all of this?” Callum asked as they neared the end of the hall. He dropped her hand to tug on the skirt of her dress, swishing it around playfully. 

“Well,  _ Your Highness _ ,” she started, casting him a sideways smirk, which he scoffed at. “If you  _ must _ know, all the people  _ did _ make me a little nervous. Nothing my  _ Prince Charming  _ couldn’t fix, though,” she said with a wink as she referred to her  _ least _ favorite of those stupid human fairytales Callum had told her about. His little smile at her sarcastic compliment  _ was _ actually charming, she thought, as she looked away, suddenly struck by a little pang of shyness.

That smile of his became goofy and wide, though, as he glanced up to the mistletoe they were now standing under, having turned the corner down the next hallway. 

“M’lady?” 

He inclined his head in her direction and held out his hand to her. She snickered and permitted his dramatic little performance, placing her hand in his and even bobbing a little curtsy as he bent to kiss her hand again. The effect was a  _ little _ different than that of the last time his lips were there, mostly because of the dramatic kissing noise that accompanied the gesture. 

“Does that count?” he asked, knowing the answer, still bent over at the waist, an arm behind his back, and looking up at her merrily.

“If it  _ pleases _ His Highness,” Rayla said with a falsely lovelorn sigh, keeping her eyes trained on him as she turned her head away theatrically. She shrieked in delight when he righted himself and abruptly wound an arm around her waist, yanking her closer in the process. His grip around her was insistent, her arms smushed between them. He pressed his lips to hers after a nice long stare into her eyes that seemed to hold more passion than drama—though she was pretty sure continued drama,  _ not _ heart-fluttering adoration, had been his intention. The only thing that kept her from getting completely lost in the pleasure of him kissing her so intensely was wondering when he’d managed to sneak a cup of whatever it was that was making his kiss taste all warm and cinnamon-y again like she’d been daydreaming about all day.

“Seven,” Callum said quietly, grinning at her with delight when they parted. She blinked at him a moment, still relishing their closeness and the little tingle of heat that the spice on his breath had brought to her lips, before angling her forehead against his and laughing with him.

—

Rayla had to admit that she’d expected most of the fun and romance of the evening to come from the mistletoe she’d hidden out of the way, but she couldn’t deny that there was something breath-takingly magical about rushing all over the castle, giggling loudly as Callum pulled her along down each hallway. She’d never get over just how  _ fun _ it was to be with him, teasing and laughing and smiling with each other without even the slightest hint of inhibition. His hand in hers made everything else fade into the background, people becoming fuzzy outlines and the red-carpeted, garland-strung halls becoming nothing more than their own little festive wonderland, full of warm firelight and their fondness for each other.

He was unfailingly  _ completely  _ and  _ utterly _ wrapped up in the game she’d set for him, and whenever it was time for another kiss, he exclaimed excitedly each time, sprinting towards the mistletoe. His eyes sparkled with joy as she followed him to it and his arms reached to squeeze around her middle, matching the enthusiasm with which hers looped around his neck. 

(She’d nearly toppled him before Kiss #8 with an  _ overly _ enthusiastic leap in his direction, hoping he’d catch her...he’d tried at least.) 

Each time they stopped, there was always a tiny pause right at that moment before they kissed, during which Rayla gave into admiring this relaxed and carefree version of her love, her eyes wandering from his—particularly green tonight, she noted, and even warmer looking than usual in the dim yellow light that lit up the halls—to fall upon his cheek, or nose, or chin, or even on the adorably rounded tips of his ears. She’d known all along that her mistletoe mission would be worth it, but watching him enjoy her gift to him—flushed and grinning and beaming at her at every turn-—made her head buzz with pleasure and her heart flood with warmth.

It always seemed that they became overwhelmed by the urge to kiss one another at the same moment when they were holding each other there under the mistletoe, and then their lips would finally,  _ finally _ come crashing together, molding against each other in a series of short and smiley kisses that left her more breathless than their frolicking through the halls did. It was around Kiss #10 that she had started to wonder if there was some spell or another—maybe like the one at the Spire?—that he could learn so they didn’t have to stop kissing in order to catch their breath after a few moments.

Kiss #15, though, as the first dark-corner kiss of the evening, reminded her why infinite kissing might  _ not _ be such a great idea. 

Rather than moving along to the next stop when they had to pause for air, Callum had kept her corralled against said dark corner, warm breath against her cheek as his lips slowly strayed first to her ear, then to her neck…

After a few kisses to the little patches of sensitive skin he’d discovered, only  _ she  _ was still gasping for breath between the two of them, but she felt his heartbeat thrumming away just as quickly as hers was under her fingertips. He captured her lips in another kiss, but she tapped against his shoulder before he had a chance to nudge her lips open with his own.

It wasn’t that she  _ minded _ —or was unaccustomed to—being caught between Callum and a wall...but at this rate, they wouldn’t get to Kiss #20 til daybreak.

“Callum,” she breathed, leaning back against the wall lazily when his lips left hers again, “save it for the-the next one.” She couldn’t quite bring herself to keep her gaze steady. Her eyes kept wandering back to his lips, shaped into a dreamy smile. He leaned forward for just one more brief kiss.

“Fifteen,” he conceded with a contented sigh. “This game has been  _ easy _ so far.” He was smug—unacceptably so—as he put just a little space between them to cross his arms. 

“Pfft...you say that now,” Rayla scoffed, mimicking his posture. “You’ll  _ never _ guess where the last one is.”

The smugness fell away in favor of an innocent little pout. He pulled at one of her crossed arms to run his fingers along her wrist again. “Well...can I have a hint?”

She shook her head, setting her mouth in a stubborn frown and not allowing herself to focus on his fingers lightly grazing her skin. “Sure, but no prize for you then.”

He frowned back a moment before realizing that he might be able to flirt an answer out of her. Callum pulled her wrist up to his lips and worked on laying slow, breathy kisses from hand to elbow as he asked for more information and waited for her response. “A hint about the  _ prize _ then?”

“In our room,” she explained succinctly, vague enough to leave a whole  _ host _ of possibilities open as to what the prize could be. Her eyes watched the ceiling for a moment before looking back at him and daring a wink. Judging by the flirtatious smirk that returned to his lips, she’d succeeded in making the implication  _ seem _ more exciting than the simple bedtime cuddles that actually awaited him, win or lose. 

He’d reached her elbow now with his kisses, and released her arm back to her so that he could lean against the wall at their side, his hand resting above their heads against the bricks. “Ohh, so it’s  _ that _ kind of prize.” She couldn’t resist flirting back.

“It  _ does _ involve one blanket.” She didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her hands as they settled on her hips.

He glanced around before leaning closer and muttering in a low whisper: “...it’s not related to your... _ advice _ ...is it, Rayla?” She felt her face color and was unsure how she felt about being on the  _ other _ side of the dirty joke, especially with the way he tacked her name on to the end of the question, all low and mischievous. Hitting him seemed like a reasonable reaction, as did kissing him again. She went for somewhere in the middle.

“Get your mind out the gutter, Callum,” she ordered playfully, crossing her arms again, but not before flicking him directly between the eyes. She chuckled as he rubbed at the spot.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, the suggestive tone broken. “ _ You’re  _ the one that put it there.”

“Need I remind you of the last time your mind was the gutter in our room?” Hands on bare skin weren’t really  _ that _ big of a deal, she thought, but that  _ had  _ been the impetus for the decision to limit kissing to a  _ strictly _ vertical activity since...and her dirty joke that he’d recycled would undoubtedly lead  _ directly _ into that particular gutter if acted upon. He fidgeted with his scarf, which was still loosely draped around her shoulders.

“Mmm...you can remind me if you want.” She  _ did  _ hit him that time, just with the end of his scarf though. He snickered as it brushed against his cheek, and she glared half-heartedly.

“Oh, shut  _ up _ and go find #16,” she said, with a grin, waving her hand vaguely in the direction of their next kiss.

—

They’d looped around the castle  _ twice _ now in search of Kiss #20. Callum had even dragged her outside again, insistent that she was trying to rig the game when she said there were no more out there. The combination of the opportunity to tuck herself under his arm and the sight of the pretty snow—settled now and all sparkling in the moonlight rather than flying through the air and stinging her cheeks—was  _ almost _ worth all of the shivering.

Their freezing stroll became decidedly  _ more  _ worth it, she’d decided, when he tried to go for round two under the first bunch of mistletoe they’d kissed under. She’d let her limbs be slack and loose as he bent her over again, but she’d turned her lips away, insisting with a giggle that he kiss  _ only _ her cheek until he found the elusive twentieth piece of mistletoe. He’d grumbled but accepted his fate, pressing his cold nose into her cheek—along with his lips—over and over as they continued wandering the grounds.

His lips, though, had remained impossibly, almost  _ irresistibly _ warm, despite the wintery weather, she marvelled as they came back into the fire-warmed castle and he placed a kiss to her nose, frozen from the icy wind. He’d used the opportunity to antagonize her for ‘just one more hint,’ and Rayla had  _ almost  _ given in when his lips then pressed to her forehead.

When she’d denied that final plea, his resolve to win seemed to begin to fall to pieces much more rapidly, his good-natured, sporting attitude giving way to impatient displeasure as he gave up literally  _ steps  _ away from the last piece of mistletoe. 

She forced a yawn and stretched just outside of their door after he'd conceded, knowing that his grumpy attitude wouldn’t be lasting for long. “Well, too bad. Guess it’s bedtime, then,” she said, pressing the door to their room open. Instead of entering as usual, she propped it open by a shoulder so she could watch his face when he realized that the last bundle of mistletoe was above their heads.

She was a little disappointed when the mistletoe hanging down above them didn’t catch his eye as he walked right past her and sat on his bed, shoulders slumped, eyes trained on the ground in melodramatic dejection. Just as she took a breath to tell him to look up, he beat her to the punch by collapsing backward with a heavy sigh. She pressed her lips together to contain her smile when he immediately bolted upright again, realization spreading across his face starting from his eyes and making its way down to turn the corners of his mouth up into the happiest grin yet.

“You,” Callum remarked, more quietly then she’d expected, still seated on his bed, but looking at her across the room, where she still reclined against the doorway, with a soft glimmer of awestruck fondness. She would’ve laughed at the almost  _ comically _ lovesick smile on his lips if she weren’t so enamored with it.

“Me.” She looked back to him, meeting his eye from across the room, and shrugging.

He stood to cross to where she stood, still in the entryway, the heavy door swinging shut behind her.

“All of them?” He grinned. Rayla sucked in a noisy breath as his eyes, half-lidded and affectionate still, came within inches of hers. His fingers wandered to touch against the navy ribbons in her hair again as he gazed at her, eyes full of the purest love she’d could imagine.

She nodded, mesmerized. His fingers drifted from lightly grazing against braids and horns and soft pieces of white hair to gently draw her lips closer to his, fingertips pressing just under her chin. He left a maddening inch of space between them still and the anticipation borne of sharing the air with him left her breathless even before he finally pulled her closer, kissing her slowly and sweetly under that last piece of mistletoe she’d hung. She couldn’t describe the fervid excitement of his kiss as anything other than true—impassioned and genuine and so very  _ sweet _ . Her heart fluttered knowing that  _ that  _ was the way the love of her life chose to kiss her.

When Callum’s lips stilled against hers, his hand remained cradled against the spot at the underside of her hair where the braid she always had tied there radiated with warmth, reflecting the absolute devotion and  _ love _ that fogged her mind. 

“You are...I love you, Rayla.” His eyes were closed as he pressed in against her, his hair tickling against her forehead and his breath tickling her cheek. He began chuckling before she’d even collected her thoughts enough to even give him the automatic and obvious reply. “I guess I don’t get my prize, though, huh?”

She leaned away, drawing out the first sentence of her response as she looked to the side in an attempt to break out of the tender haze of affection that he’d trapped her in. “Well...you  _ did _ give up. But...consolation prize, I guess?” She shrugged. “You can still stay with me tonight,” she smiled, letting on to the cuddly reward she’d decided upon earlier.

“What would the  _ actual _ prize have been?” he asked, just as she’d thought he would. He seemed to be satisfied—for the moment—with her concession, even if he did bounce his eyebrows up and down at her in goofy flirtation.

She leaned in to whisper a word at a time, knowing her response would get a reaction out of him. “Little. Spoon.”

“No!” He exclaimed, practically shouting, his arms falling away from her. “C’mon! Bonus round!” Callum pleaded. Rayla chuckled.

“Nope,” she crossed her arms as she turned to the side, satisfied with herself both for winning their game  _ and  _ choosing a reward so highly coveted. She looked back to him to clarify, nose stuck in the air stubbornly. “I  _ like _ being little spoon, especially when it’s this cold. Big spoon for you.”

“Aw, come on!” He continued to plead, tugging on her arm. When she didn’t budge, he echoed her stance, arms crossed and an insincere frown set across his face. “One of these nights you’re gonna poke my eye out, you know.” He turned back to her only to poke at a horn. Her glare became significantly more genuine.

“You  _ lost _ . You’re lucky to be a spoon  _ at all,”  _ she threatened. She was  _ definitely  _ bluffing, her lip twitching into a smile.

“Okay, okay!” He held up his hands in surrender, and she stepped closer to wind her hands around his neck again, pressing a kiss to his cheek, just to be sure he knew that there wasn’t  _ anything _ he could do that would  _ actually _ make her change her mind at this point about the cuddling with her very own sweet human that her heart had been set on all day. 

He glanced up when her gentle kiss was through, mischief springing to his eyes again as he looked back at the mistletoe above them, his fingers pulling her a little closer by the light fabric at her waist. “So...should we make it twenty-one?” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue! Happy New Year!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been taking fluffy Rayllum prompts on Tumblr this week and someone wanted a little New Year's ficlet and I figured this would work as a short epilogue, featuring Xadian/Moonshadow reasons to kiss during the holidays!! Happy New Year, y'all!

After spending the past week rushing around with Callum, smiling at him in packed banquet halls and flirting with him across loud dinner tables and even dancing with him in the crowded town square last night, Rayla was surprised that New Year’s Eve was a non-event in Katolis. She had to admit, though, that it was awfully nice to spend the evening quietly, tucked away in Ez’s private chambers with the boys’—with _her_ —little pieced-together family, even if it was very different from the way she’d typically be celebrating the new year.

When Callum untangled his fingers from to hers to refill their mugs, she used her solitude as an excuse to slink away to the window, which had been calling her name all evening. She hadn’t ever been particularly fond of New Year’s Eve in the Silvergrove, but seeing the moon hanging there in the sky, a little more than half full, made her miss the loud music and the cold night air of New Year’s Eves gone by.

She couldn’t have been standing there for more than a minute or two before Callum appeared next to her again, a kind smile at the ready as always, pressing her warm cup of tea into her hands.

“Only a few more minutes,” he remarked with a nod to the clock tower at their right. She looked for a moment, acknowledging him with a hum, before drifting back to the moon dead ahead.

She brought the cup to her lips, considering that maybe the fondness she’d developed for this spiced Katolian tea this December had something to do with some buried nostalgia for the mulled moonberry juice that Ethari always made in the winter time. Callum touched her shoulder blade and she knew that she should just start explaining before he could begin to press her for details about what had made her stray from the warm fire and their cozy blanket.

“ _This_ is the holiday I always celebrated, you know,” she said, turning to look at him. 

“Yeah? What’s it like?” he asked, the friction of his hand against her back helping to ward off the chill from the drafty window. He smiled a little wider, his eyes encouraging and shining in the moonlight. She found the subtle, homesick melancholy that had pulled her away evaporating in the warmth he lit up inside of her.

“It’s kind of like last night was here,” she said with a shrug, thinking back to the fun she’d had as Callum clumsily spun her around on the cobblestones in front of the fountain at the center of town, willing to make giggling, goofy fools of them both if it meant they could stay in each other’s arms all evening. She grinned, imagining how nice it would be to do the same thing in the Silvergrove with him, the taste of spiced moonberries on his lips when he pulled her close. She continued to explain, picturing them both there, twirling around some more with a backdrop of snow-spotted, moonlit greenery, and he smiled back.

“Everyone in the _whole_ Silvergrove goes to the center of the village, and there’s music and dancing and—that place with the Moonberry Surprise? They make mulled moonberry juice for everyone—Ethari’s is better, though—and...” She trailed off with a smirk, recalling one Silvergrove New Year’s Eve tradition she’d never had the pleasure of participating in.

“And?” His hand easily slid down her back to press against her hip when she shuffled a little closer, gently pulling her closer still. She was grateful for the warm reception, her shoulder tucked in front of his in their embrace. 

“And when it’s midnight, the music stops and it gets all silent,” she started, before pausing a moment and lowering her voice, inhaling as she let her lips drift closer to his. He beamed at her as he let out a warm, spiced-tea breath, his eyes moving between hers and her lips. 

“And everyone goes to find their lover so they can start the new year with a kiss.” Rayla bit her lip and held herself back until midnight struck. Callum’s fingers twitched against her side impatiently as they kept scanning over each other’s expressions, intoxicated by anticipation and breathing each other’s air for so long.

When the bells in the tower across the way began to sound just a moment later, she grinned widely again and his eyes twinkled happily back before they rang in the new year.

**Author's Note:**

> [ Come be friends on tumblr!! ](https://blutopaz15.tumblr.com/)


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